Namesake
by Cardboard Edward
Summary: Valkyrie wakes in a battlefield filled with the dead, haunted by a man she's never seen before. KOTW spoilers, slight Valduggery.


Yet another Valduggery week fic! This one was for 'Goodbyes'. Miiiiight continue this one day, but no promises.

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Valkyrie woke facing a dead man's face. She didn't know him, not by name – she thought he might have been an intern. Red stubble still covered his pale face. She turned to the other side, but there was another body, this time facing away from her, body twisted unnaturally. Valkyrie wasn't sure what killed him. She didn't want to know.

She swallowed hard and reminded herself it was not her handiwork. There was a war going on, after all, and the bodies were far too clean and intact to have anything to do with Darquesse. This was not her fault. But the feeling of guilt was overwhelming nonetheless, and she pushed herself up to stand, so she wouldn't have to look at the bodies.

It was a bad idea.

The battlefield was littered with bodies. No one fighting. No one getting up. No one stirring. She was… she was the only one.

Valkyrie staggered back, hand on her forehead, overwhelmed by deja vu. Seven years ago she had walked into the Sanctuary and found a similar situation. But she hadn't known anyone in that bloodshed – not at all.

Now, the entire Irish Sanctuary lay at her feet. There was Tipstaff, Steven Weeper, Kallista Pendragon… people she had known, people she had talked to.

And those she had been friends with. Clarabelle's eyes were wide in death, mouth slightly open. Close to her were the bodies borrowed by Scapegrace and his friend. To the other side was – was Nye.

She blinked. She had never thought of it as something that could _die_. She hated it, always had, mostly because it was one of the few things – beings, really, that she was afraid of. But now she felt something like sadness. She didn't know what the hell Nye was, but she had the impression it was the last of them. And now… no more.

She flew, a present from her brand new surge, hovering so she would have to step on anyone. Valkyrie floated around until she found who she was looking for. They were far away from Clarabelle and Nye, right at the front. She supposed they were considered more important.

There lay the Dead Men, the five of them lined up in a neat row. Ravel was there – whoever did this apparently didn't get the memo that he had betrayed them all. But his beautiful gold eyes were closed, and somehow looking at him didn't muster the hatred it used to. There were two missing – herself, the newest member, and…

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. _Okay_, she thought to herself. _Okay. Now I just have to find him._

There was something about this that felt familiar, something stronger than when she had fought Serpine, but every time she reached for the thought, it scattered. She dismissed it, knowing she had more important things to do.

Valkyrie's feet touched the ground, landing on a suit jacket covered in dust. The tip of her boot brushed Saracen Rue's hair. She swallowed hard, and slowly turned away.

And then jumped.

There was a man standing 3 metres away, staring at her. She didn't know him, and she knew, logically, that someone alive in the middle of a field of dead bodies probably was the cause of said dead bodies, but something but relief flooded her, just as seeing someone else, another person _alive_.

She kept her dark eyes on him as she went for her gun at her belt, her eighteenth birthday present from Skulduggery. She raised it and aimed.

"State your business," she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady but finding it raw from dust and lack of use.

The man frowned, and then smiled. Both expressions looked unfairly attractive on a person she wasn't sure hadn't mass murdered all of her friends. He was tall, with dark hair that had started to go grey at the sides. He reminded her a bit of Ravel – which made her wary – but also Vex, and Rue. There was something to him, however, that was calm, at peace, in a way that the other men never were. Or at least, hadn't been in years. Her hand didn't waver.

"This is a bit more hostile than I expected," said the man, mostly to himself.

He had Skulduggery's voice. Valkyrie stopped breathing, and then dug the nails of her left hand into her leg, forcing herself to regain her senses.

"You're not Skulduggery," she said. "Why are – what are you?"

The man stared at her like she was stupid. "Of course I am, what are… oh." He looked down at himself, and then the air rippled, and her skeleton detective was standing before her.

"Is that better?"

Valkyrie dropped the gun, and then took a shaky step toward him, and then another, until she stood in front of him. She could feel herself shaking.

"It's me," he said softly.

Valkyrie stared at his skull, the way it tilted towards her, the dents and cracks and nicks.

"How do I know you're not some… trick?"

"Ah," said Skulduggery, tilting his head all the way back. For some reason, his hat didn't fall. "The age-old question. You proved to me you were real by telling me what cereal you ate that morning, right?"

"Right."

"But I don't eat cereal. I never have. I'm limited in that way, so I suppose I'll have to think of some other clever way to prove-"

"You just did."

"What?"

"You just proved it," Valkyrie answered. "The cereal thing. I didn't tell anyone about that."

"Right," Skulduggery said. "Unless I'm a figment of your imagination."

Valkyrie gave him a look. "That doesn't explain where that face came from."

"Did you like it?"

"_Skulduggery_."

He gave an apologetic shrug. "Right. I'm a little distracted. My bad. So I'm real, then?"

"Apparently," Valkyrie breathed, feeling her relief fill her. She reached out to touch his skull.

"No, don't do that –" he said quickly, but it was too late – her fingerstips went right through him.

Valkyrie pulled back, scared. "What are you?" When he didn't answer, she raised her voice. "What the hell are you?"

"I'm real," he assured her, voice soft. "Valkyrie, no, I'm real, I'm here, I promise, I'm just…"

"Just what?"

He looked at her, and for a moment his skull flickered and she saw the man again, his expression distraught.

"Dead," he admitted at last.

Valkyrie just shook her head. "You're always dead."

"Deader than usual."

"No," Valkyrie said. "No, you're impossible to kill. People try and it just, it just doesn't work. You can't be dead. The only person who got close was Melancholia, because she was the…"

Valkyrie looked around her, and suddenly remembered where she had seen this scene before.

"No," she said again, in a whisper. "Oh, God, no."

Skulduggery stood beside her. "Surprise," he said drily. "The temple in America has found itself a Death Bringer."

"And they took out the entire Irish Sanctuary. The final strike." Valkyrie looked out at the rows of bodies. "How did…" she couldn't finish, already fearing the answer.

"Darquesse has saved you from this before," Skulduggery said. "I suppose she's done it again."

"But there's no rampage," Valkyrie said. "Nothing at all."

"Not a lot to do when everyone's already dead. Guess she went for a nap." He paused. "…Surrounded by dead bodies. That's a nice thought."

Valkyrie swallowed. "But you're okay too, right? Or you will be."

He looked at her.

"My body is dust now. That's what you stepped on earlier, actually. Thank you for that, by the way."

"But you're _here_," she insisted, fighting to keep her calm. "Right now, talking to me."

"Yes," Skulduggery agreed. "I'm stuck."

She frowned.

"Tied to this battlefield. Tied to… tied to you."

Valkyrie tried to reach out and touch him, but her hand passed through once more. His gloved hand went out, and he cupped it, fingers curved carefully so they didn't pass through.

"I've been avoiding death for the past four hundred years. My soul was tethered to that body, and once Necromancy released it… it fell apart. And instead of floating off to whatever corner of hell I'm destined for, it stayed with you." His other hand reached out and went to touch her hair, and she felt the ghost of his touch.

Valkyrie looked down. "Well," she said. "You sure know how to flatter a girl. That's it, then. We find you a new body, put your soul there, then kick the asses of whoever did this-"

"I'm sure you will," he said. "But not with me."

"Are you asking me to leave you behind?" Valkyrie's head spun.

"Not at all," he said, voice calm and steady. "I need you to let me go."

"No." Valkyrie said, glaring at him, eyes suddenly wet with tears. "Never."

"Valkyrie-"

"No," she repeated, her voice rising in volume. "Skulduggery, I need you. I can't, I'm not strong enough."

He shook his head. "Of course you are. It's in your name. Valkyrie, the warrior woman who leads the soul of the dead off the battlefield. It's who you are."

"I can't do it," Valkyrie said, suddenly shouting. She pulled her hand away, and it went through his. His image scattered and reformed. "I can't. Skulduggery, please, don't make me-"

"I won't," he said, softly. "I would never. But you can't stay with me here forever. You're the last one, Valkyrie. The last Dead Man, the last member of the Irish Sanctuary."

She swallowed, suddenly choking back sobs. "I don't want to be, Skulduggery, I want you with me. Please. God, don't leave me." She went to hug him, but felt only air.

All he could do was look at her.

"It's Hell either way for me," he said. "Might as well get it done and over with."

"You're not going to Hell," Valkyrie said. "You feel bad for the things you've done, for being Vile, you've repented. You won't."

He laughed. "I became Vile to protect you half a dozen times. I don't regret that. I'd never regret that."

Valkyrie swallowed. "You're making this a lot harder, you know."

His face flickered back with an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

She exhaled slowly. "I don't know what I'll do… I don't know what I'll become when you leave."

"It's out of my hands then," he said. "I won't know either way."

"But the people I might hurt…"

"Killed my best friends," he said. "Killed innocent people."

She grit her teeth. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"Have you made up your mind, then?"

Valkyrie looked at him, tears running down her face. "I don't want to."

"I know, dear."

"But I have to," she said, and rubbed at her face.

"You're a very brave girl," he said, softly.

"I love you," she said, slowly, pulling out the words.

"I love you too," he said. "Until the end."

She choked out another sob before repeating it back. "Until the end. And this is it, isn't it? This is goodbye."

"Not at all, Valkyrie." Skulduggery said gently. "We'll see each other again."

"I'll search for you," she said. "Every circle of hell, everywhere, even if you get reincarnated, I'll find you again, okay? I promise. I promise."

"I'll take you up on that," he said, smile in his voice, and she knew she couldn't delay this any longer.

"Give them hell for me," Skulduggery said. She looked at him, and she thought of the past seven years, every joke, every time she had tried to impress him, every time she had cried and tried to hide it, the crushes and the secrets and the lies and the safe haven they had built together, all their own.

She looked again, and he was gone, and for a moment, she wondered if he had been there at all.

Valkyrie wiped away her tears and breathed, slowly, feeling her magic surge in her veins, feeling it build with every heartbeat.

It was time for her to raise cain.


End file.
